


Convoluted

by FoxyDysphoria



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3137237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyDysphoria/pseuds/FoxyDysphoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter wakes from a nightmare, only to run into Rocket. They comfort each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convoluted

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: 1/13/15  
> -Fixed general spelling errors and grammar mistakes.  
> -Flushed out dialogue to make it seem more natural.  
> -Added more detail about the door. I know. It's just a door. But, it's a space door.  
> -Italicized all instances of the Milano.

Peter woke with a start. Sweat drenched his brow, and he was panting. "What the hell-" He was cut off as a sharp pain racked his body violently, making him grit his teeth. What was going on with him? It had started as a nightmare, something he couldn't quite recall. All he remembered was the fear, and the need to run, run far away from whatever was threatening his life. He resolved to get up, walk around for a bit, clear his head. Maybe some fresh water would help.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up slowly. Stretching briefly, he walked over to his door. He pressed the auto-translating button labeled 'Open' on the door, it's hydraulics quietly hissing as the mechanism slid open. The _Milano_ redesign, though still the same size and general layout, had received significant improvements in the area of sustaining their crew size. Because of this, the captains quarters were on the upper level, next to the bridge, allowing for quick access in case of emergency. The ladder still led down to the commons area, which now held a decently sized mess hall and six bedrooms. However, Peter's interests lied in the sink in the mess hall. He slowly ambled to the ladder, sliding down before making his way to the counter. He rested his hands on the metal countertop and lowered his head, panting. He felt a headache coming on.

This was not normal. Why was he so hot? Was he sick? What the hell was wrong with him? He groaned as he pushed off the counter, glancing at the time. 3:30AM. He groggily made his way to the faucet, fumbling with the control panel and grabbing a glass from the cabinet to his left. He let the glass fill, before shakily bringing the glass to his mouth. The cool liquid ran down his dry throat, making him realize just how dehydrated he was. He sighed as he lumbered over to the table, unlatching the lock on the chair, which kept it from moving during flight. He collapsed with a groan, lying his head on the table. A quiet voice startled him out of his daze.

"Quill? The heck are you doin' up?"

Peter looked up at the newcomer, letting out another tired groan, "Don't feel good. Needed water."

Rocket sighed, "Whatever. Just don't barf on the frickin' table. We eat there."

The captain nodded slowly, "Mmkay..." With that, Peter lay his head back on the table and let his world faded to black.

 

Murky darkness fogged clear thoughts. Something was wrong. Fear gripped his mind like a wicked tendril, weaving it's way into his heart, sifting through his memories, and twisting them into wretched horrors. He saw the face of his mother, but instead of the benevolent, kind-hearted gaze he was used to, he was greeted with a sneer, a horrific convulsion of her true features. " _You_ did this! It's _your_ fault he left!" the imposter shouted at him in a voice that was both his mother's and not. "I _hate_ you."

 

Peter jolted up, tears streaming down his face. What... was that...? He looked at the clock. 4:47AM. He looked back in front of him, seeing Rocket staring at him. Had he been there since he fell asleep?

"You okay, Pete?" Rocket had apparently been tinkering with something, as usual, and he had positioned himself across from Peter at the table.

"I, uh... yeah. I-I'll be fine," the captain used his forearm to wipe his running nose.

Rocket frowned at him, "You know I ain't gonna buy that, ya d'ast idiot. You're cryin'. I've never seen you cry."

"I just... had a bad dream. That's all," Peter looked down. He half expected the raccoon to start laughing at him. To his surprise, however, he didn't.

"I know how ya' feel then. I get my fair share of 'em too," Rocket nodded sagely. "Guess it's part of bein' a loser, eh?"

Peter nodded and sniffled. "I... saw my mom," he admitted. "But it wasn't her. She was... wrong."

Rocket sighed, "Well... I ain't gonna say I know what ya' feel like, 'cause I don't. Never had family, ya' know? But..." he paused, "I know what it's like to have memories that torture you. It sucks. A lot."

Quill nodded, "Yeah..."

The raccoon leaned forwards towards his friend, "Listen Pete. If ya' need someone to talk to, I'm always willing to listen. I don't got all the answers, but I'll do what I can to help ya'."

Peter did his best to mask his surprise. This was Rocket, right? Rocket never opened up like this. Usually, if someone came to him with a problem, he'd just tell them to suck it up and deal with it on their own. "I wouldn't want to bother you with it. But, thanks."

Rocket frowned at him, "Quill, you know I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I know I ain't good at being all 'emotional', but that doesn't mean I don't care," he hesitated for a moment, looking around the room before making eye contact with Peter. "There's somethin' I wanna tell ya', Pete. I... uh... shit, this is hard..." the raccoon gulped, suddenly seeming incredibly nervous, "I kinda like ya'."

Peter blinked.

"Like, _like_ like you."

The awkward silence hung in the air, until, "For real?"

Rocket looked down and sighed, "Yeeeeeeep. That's, uh... why I'm tryin' to be nice and stuff. If ya' don't feel the same, I'd totally understand. I know it's kinda taboo in humie culture to date... animals."

Peter had difficulty taking it in. He liked Rocket, yeah. And he did feel a connection with him. It was just surprising that Rocket felt the same. "I... wow," he swallowed, "You... really? I... if you're bein' serious, Rocket, I... It doesn't bother me. Who cares if your a raccoon? You're probably the smartest guy I know. And yeah, you can be an ass, but I..."

Rocket grinned and almost knocked Peter out of his chair as he jumped across the table and hugged him, startling the captain. "Thanks for givin' me a chance, Pete."

Peter laughed and returned the embrace.

They stayed up for another hour or so, just wasting the night away, talking. Then they fell asleep together on the couch, snuggled together.

**Author's Note:**

> First Pocket fic, and first fic on AO3 in general. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
